Hope's Nest
by Iian Feuerfalke
Summary: After the war Draco returns to a drastically changed British Wizarding World. He meets Nicodemus, a mysterious character, who owns Hope's Nest, an orphanage for the hated and abused.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Do I look like JKR? It's all hers, not mine.

This is my first try at a Harry Potter fic, so feedback would be very appreciated, as long as it is constructive.

Warnings: I am not a native speaker and I don't have a beta, so if you stumble over any grammatical errors, don't be offended. This story might develop some slash (male/male pairing) in the future.

"Hello" = speech

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"Hello" = thoughts

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Hope's Nest

Chapter 1

It was a sunny day that found Draco Malfoy standing in front of the quite unknown orphanage "Hope's Nest". He had been surprised to learn that the orphanage was not a run down little hut, but a big mansion with huge gardens and a small lake. It was not every day that someone rich enough to own such grounds decided to take in war orphans in his own home, without getting anything out of it in return.

The orphanage's owner, a mysterious person called Nicodemus Stormcrow, was apparently a wizard of old blood, who harboured a strong dislike against publicity of any kind.

The only reason Draco knew about "Hope's Nest" was that some of his former housemates children had been take in by Mr.Stormcrow. Regardless of the fact that they were children of publicly known Death Eaters. Every other orphanage denied those children entrance, their halls and beds reserved for the children of war heroes. So many children had to live on the streets, where they were easy prey to anti-dark fanatics, child-molesters and other criminals.

How the Wizarding World hoped to avoid another dark movement when they abandoned over one third of their magical children, many of them already trained in the Dark Arts, was truly beyond him.

After some careful investigations Draco learned that Mr.Stormcrow took in every single child that he could find, regardless of their parents beliefs, their heritage or their race. The children were homeschooled, not only learning about Wirzarding traditions, culture and history, but also in everything their muggle counterparts learned in primary and secondary school.

Draco's curiosity was picked, so he called and made an appointment with Mr.Stormcrow to visit the orphanage. If the children were treated as well as it seemed, he would personally look to it that the orphanage got plenty of donations and would never know need of anything.

The orphanage's name and motto adorned the magnificent iron gates in bold, silver letters: "Hope's Nest-Home for All".

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You mean a home for Slytherins and half-breeds. As far as he knew no Stormcrow had ever attended Hogwarts. Which made him wonder how Mr.Stormcrow could take in children that were so heavily prejudiced by the whole Wizarding World, when he didn't know any Slytherins personally. How could he be sure the Wizarding World was in the wrong?

Without further delays Draco rang the little silver bell, next to the gates. A few seconds later a small house-elf, dressed in a nice blue on white uniform, which was adorned with the crest of "Hope's Nest", a dark phoenix who cradled three children in his wings, one holding a wand, one holding a book and one half-transformed werewolf.

"Welcome at "Hope's Nest" Mr.Malfoy, sir. Master Stormcrow sir, is awaiting you in the sitting room, sir. If sir were so kind as to follow Bellsy?"

Draco was quite impressed by the well mannered, articulate house-elf and followed her on the passage that lead to the main entrance of the mansion. He noticed the lovely arranged and well cared for flowerbeds and ancient trees that surrounded the way, as well as the children playgrounds that could be see farther away.

Knowing about house-elves love of talking about their masters, Draco started to interrogate the house elf: "You are very well mannered, Bellsy. How long have you been working for your master?"

The small creature squealed with delight at being able to praise her kind master. "Mr.Malfoy, sir, is being too kind. Bellsy is a young elf, Bellsy was born here, Bellsy was helped to life by great Master Stormcrow himself. Bellsy's mother Cammy was owned by Master Stormcrow when the bad snakeman was dead. Cammy helped Master Stormcrow find all the little ones and made the old rooms nice for them."

"Was your master sad after the bad snakeman's death?" _If he plans to build a new army, it would make sense to gather the children of Death Eaters. Nobody would suspect the head of an orphanage to be the next Dark Lord in hiding._

"Master Stormcrow was happy and sad at the same time. He was happy at day and cried on his sleep. Master Stormcrow had very bad dreams, but they got better when he took all those little ones in. Master Stormcrow likes children."

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He couldn't be a child molester, could he? I don't think the children would stay here if he was, but better be safe than sorry.

"How do you know that he likes children, Bellsy?"

"Master Stormcrow buys them toys and plays with them and comforts them when they is crying, sir."

Draco wanted to ask more questions, but they had arrived at the mansion. With a little "pop" Bellsy disappeared. The doors opened and another house-elf greeted him.

"Good day, Mr.Malfoy sir. Master Stormcrow will be a little late, sir. He bids your pardon, one of the little ones is crying. If Mr.Malfoy sir would be so kind to follow Cammy?"

He followed Cammy to a big, comfortable looking sitting room, where he was immediately directed to a chair. The house-elf seemed anxious to make him be as comfortable as possible.

"Is Mr.Malfoy sir needing anything else?"

"No, thank you, Cammy. You can go." After the house-elf had vanished, Draco took a good look at his surroundings. The room was decorated in a rich ocean blue; the furniture was of a soft white colour.

The bookshelves were filled with tomes from the topic of Muggle history to the topic of Ancient Runes. Pictures of various children were placed on shelves or hang on the wall. The whole room radiated the feeling of finally being at home.

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Well, whoever you are, Mr.Stormcrow, it seems you only have the well being of the children in mind.

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TBC


	2. Hope's Nest2

Disclaimer: see chapter one

Warnings: I am not a native speaker, so please don't get offended at any grammatical sacrileges. There might be slash in future chapters.

Hope's Nest

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Chapter 2

It was short after dawn, when Nicodemus was woken up by the door crashing open and a small something climbing onto his bed. When the small something didn't calm down and continued its violent trembling, he resolutely pushed his sleepiness away and opened his eyes.

"Lumos." he muttered, lighting up the still half-dark room. It was one of the younger children, though one of the very first he had taken in.

"Bridget, dear, what is it?" he asked in a quiet, calm voice that had proven to be very comforting for nightmare plagued children. This time it had no effect whatsoever on the still trembling child that was curled up into his side. Worry darkened his unusual eyes. He sat up and gathered the young child in his arms, rubbing its back in slow circles and slowly rocking back and forth. The violent trembling lessened as the child clung to him for dear life.

"Bridget, shh, calm down. Breathe in, and out. You are safe." His comforting words washed over the upset girl like gentle waves, till she stilled completely, still clinging to him.

Sighing inaudibly he started to stroke the girl's honey coloured hair. "You are safe, little one, you are safe."

When sunlight stated to light up the room, he extinguished his magical light. The room was big, though there was little furniture. The walls were painted in a soft forest green, while the carpet and the bed sheets were of a deep blue. Besides the huge bed (huge enough to hold easily up to twenty children in it at once and still be comfortable) that stood in a corner next to the windowfront, there were only a wardrobe and two bookshelves there.

He was startled when the child suddenly broke the silence to whisper in a lonely and terrified voice: "Will momma come back to kill me? She said she would...."

Pained Nicodemus briefly shut his eyes, before he raised her chin to look into her teary, golden ones. None of the children feared his eyes anymore, after seeing nothing but kindness in them. "I won't let that woman come even near you ever again. She doesn't know where you are; she doesn't even know your name. You are Bridget Nest and you belong here, to the people of "Hope's Nesst"." he told her in a kind, but decided voice.

His efforts earned him a little smile, followed by a huge yawn. He laughed softly, a deep, rich laugh that rumbled in his chest. "Think you can go back to sleep again, little one?"

Two hours later Nicodemus faced a totally different problem. He needed to get up; the child's grip on him however wouldn't loosen one bit.

After a whispered "Tempus" he knew he had to get up. He had an appointment with Draco Malfoy at ten o'clock this morning, not to speak of the seemingly endless tasks raising children brought with it, and it was already 08:30 am.

Maintaining a household as big as this mansion plus the gardens was hard enough for one wizard and three house-elves. Taking care of 23 children including their schooling, additionally, was herculous act indeed. That was the very reason why he had hired five teachers and four more house-elves. Not that the workload scared him off of taking in more children.

After several unsuccessful attempts at loosening the child's grip on him, Nicodemus decided to wake it up. Lightly shaking her shoulders he said: "Bridget, wake up. It's time to get up or I'm afraid there won't be any breakfast left for you."

The child blinked a few times, strengthened its grip on him and went back to sleep.

"Little one, you can sleep as long as you want, you can even stay here, but I really have to get up. You only need to let go of me then you can go straight back to sleep."

At once the child started to whimper quietly: "Don't go, don't go, don't go..." "I won't go anywhere, Bridget, I will stay here at "Hope's Nest", but I am expecting a visitor and therefore have to get up."

Nicodemus saw the panic rise in the child's eyes and suddenly he felt a strong surge of magic bursting out of the child. It felt like some kind of protection charm. Looking at the again sleeping child, he couldn't surpress a small smile.

The children were all very possessive of him, never letting him out of their eyes for long and getting upset when he left "Hope's Nest", regardless how short his absence was. Even when he was at home one of the children would come and look if he was still there at least every other hour.

His soft smile vanished however when he got up and saw the sleeping child rise with him, its hands still clutching his night shirt. _What he hell?_

After casting a spell that would send the child back to bed and seeing it vanish around a glowing sphere surrounding the child that flared into live when the spell contacted it, realisation dawned in his eyes. _That protection magic, it couldn't have... Please, don't be what I think you are._

A realisation that proved, after several other spells and charms (...he wouldn't hex any of his charges), to be true.

The child's burst of accidental magic had "glued" it to Nicodemus. Who had precisely one hour left to dissolve that magic. _That's bloody fantastic. I've got a meeting with one of the most stuck up people on the planet and there is a chance I'll be forced to go to it being glued to one of my charges. I couldn't have dreamt of a worse first impression if I'd tried. Why is it always me?_

After 45 minutes of successless spellcasting he gave up and tried to change his clothes so that he wouldn't appear like a totally impolite ignoramus. Only to discover that he couldn't change his attire due to the child's cast magic. Several attempts later he further discovered that he couldn't even transfigure his nightclothes into something more appropriate. He felt like crying and laughing at the same time out of pure frustration.

After a quick glance at the still sleeping child, that clutched his nightshirt in its hands and floated in front of him as if the air was as solid as his bed had been, an amused chuckle escaped him.

Any and all amusement left him however, when Cammy popped in to inform him of Mr.Malfoy's arrival. He ordered the house-elf to inform his guest about his lateness caused by one of the children and, innerly shrugging his shoulders went on the way to the sitting room.

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I wonder what he's doing here. Severus wouldn't tell a soul where I am, so what interest could Draco Malfoy have in an orphanage? If he plans to succeed where his father's master failed and make these children his future army, I will send him straight to hell!

After another glance at Bridget a smirk graced his lips. _I wonder how Malfoy will react to an orphanage's manager clad in violet pyjamas who's got a sleeping child floating in front of him?_

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TBC

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Marsky: A big thank you for telling me to be more descriptive. I always describe everything when writing in my native language, but I tend to forget it when writing in English. I will try to be more descriptive in the future and hopefully I managed it in this chapter already. You are welcome to guess at Mr-Stormcrow's identity, but I can't promise to answer.

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Peach dancer: Thank you for your review, it is always encouraging to get positive responses.

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Draqenphly: Well, I hope this chapter doesn't put you off my story and you think it still intriguing.

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Addy: Thanks for the longest review so far. Yes, Mr.Stormcrow is a character of the books under pseudonym and you are welcome to guess; though I don't think I will answer. I hope you still like him after this chapter.


	3. Hope's Nest3

Disclaimer: Do I look like JKR? It's all hers, not mine.

This is my first try at a Harry Potter fic, so feedback would be very

appreciated, as long as it is constructive.

Warnings: This story might develop some slash (male/male pairing) in the future. Mentioning of child abuse.

"Hello" = speech

"_Hello_" = thoughts

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Hope' Nest

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Chapter 3

Draco turned in his seat when the door was pushed open. For a brief moment his silver eyes positively glowed with curiosity before impenetrable walls once again shut down in front of them. It wouldn't do to let Mr. Stormcrow know the extent of his curiosity.

His masterfully constructed mask however stood a snowballâ¤™s chance in hell when he watched a floating, sleeping girl enter the room, closely followed by someone dressed in violet pyjamas. _What the hell?_

Nicodemus couldn't quite keep a smirk off his face when he watched Malfoy's reaction to their entrance. The other man's astonishment gave him enough time to make his own inspection of his guest.

The years had been kind to Draco Malfoy. Though his hair was still more silver than gold, it was no longer gelled back. In fact it was cut in a neat way, neither too long nor too short to be acceptable in good society, making it easier to blend in. Age had softened some of the sharp conntours of his face, which had developed from its former pointy state to delicately structured.

He was tall, standing he'd probably reach six foot. He was broad-shouldered and though well dressed in his grey trousers and dark blue shirt ,not overly so.

There were no scars, no shadows in his eyes, there was nothing to be seen of the world-weariness every single witch and wizard in Britain wore like a second skin.

Nicodemus' magical senses only confirmed what his eyes had told him before. Draco Malfoy, though raised to be a prince of darkness, raised within darkness, had never been tainted by it. Nicodemus had been told as much but had never been able to believe it wholeheartedly, until now.

This making Malfoy's interest in an orphanage all the more curious.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy. Please, do excuse my lateness. As you can see, I had a little problem with a burst of accidental magic." Nicodemus greeted his guest politely, his deep voice betraying none of his thoughts.

The deep voice pulled Draco out of his stupor. Internally Smacking himself for his inattentiveness, he raised his eyes from the floating child to meet Mr. Stormcrow's gaze. When his silver eyes met violet-crimson ones, his eyebrows rose in surprise. The soothing, deep violet orbs looked like they were holding exploding crimson stars.

After several seconds Draco noticed that the crimson streaks changed their patterns continually, never standing still. If he knew nothing else about Mr. Stormcrow, he now knew that he faced a very powerful wizard, a true magical being, which made it even more curious that he had never heard of the man before.

Forget about him being rich, why should a wizard as powerful as him hide away in an orphanage? Is he really a Dark Lord in hiding, biding his time and raising his army? Though I couldn't imagine a Dark Lord tolerating a child floating in front of him, accidental magic or no accidental magic.

Draco's gaze finally wandered upwards, discovering a shock of pure white hair. The hair was so white it nearly glowed, reflecting light like a mirror would. It was short, standing up in all directions. Draco's eyebrows rose to impossible heights, until he pulled himself together again.

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He isn't anywhere near old enough to have white hair. I don't believe it's natural either. Time to pull yourself together and start your investigation, or did you forget why you came here in the first place, Draco, old friend.

"Good morning, Mr. Stormcrow. There is no need to apologise, I assure you. Understandably your charges come first. May I ask how it came to this interesting outcome of accidental magic?" Draco said.

"You may. Little Bridget here had a bad night and came crawling into my bed at the first rays of dawn. When I had to get up a short while later, she panicked, refusing to let me go. All of my children are deathly afraid of being abandoned again. That's why I tolerate their sometimes possessive or inappropriate behaviour. I have to admit that your request for a meeting really surprised me, Mr. Malfoy." Nicodemus replied, his voice still as evenand smooth as the water of a lake at midnight.

Draco put his polite mask back on his face, rose one eyebrow in a questioning manner and asked: "Is that so? May I inquire about the reason for your surprise, Mr. Stormcrow? It isn't uncommon for wealthy and prestigious houses like that of Malfoy to donate to charity after all."

Nicodemus, still standing so that Bridget wouldn't bump against anything and get hurt, smiled a fleeting smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"It is indeed quite common that people donate to orphanages and it isn't your charitable intention that has me surprised. However it is highly unusual that "Hope's Nest" is even considered for donations. To be honest there have repeatedly been requests to pull this orphanage down."

Draco's eyes grew cold. He knew that the orphanage did not have the approval of most wizarding folk, but to try and destroy it? Like so many times before, people's blindness and narrow-mindedness ignited a cold fury in his very soul.

His jaw must have tightened, because Mr. Stormcrow's eyes showed compassion born of the same feelings, before curtains of politeness shut down in front of them again.

"When did you open your doors to orphans, Mr. Stormcrow?"

"Five years ago, shortly after the war ended. I didn't plan to start an orphanage, there were more than enough out there already. It was after meeting starving, beaten children on the streets of Diagon Alley that I started to take them in."

"You do know why other orphanages refuse to take those children in, don't you, Mr. Stormcrow?" Draco's voice was challenging, a smirk curling his lips.

"Believe me, Mr. Malfoy, I know all about the Wizarding World's reasons for abandoning these children and I've never heard a more sorry excuse, too. There is simply no reason that can excuse abandoning a child that would be acceptable in my eyes."

Nicodemus' eyes sparkled, dark crimson bolts of lightning shooting around his pupils.

Draco had to swallow hard at the signs of fury in Mr. Stormcrow's eyes. He couldn't believe anyone had been stupid enough to request that Mr. Stormcrow should throw out the children even in a letter, much less face to face.

"I understand. How many children are there in "Hope's Nest"?" he asked to dissipate some of the tension in the room. _Note to self, never anger this_

man.

The fury in Nicodemus eyes didn't disappear, but they grew warmer when he thought of his charges. Impossible as it might sound, Draco Malfoy earnestly wanted to learn more about the orphanage, or so it seemed. That didn't mean he would trust him, but he was willing to believe in the man's good intentions and sincerity, at least for the moment.

"Currently there are 23 children living in the manor. They are the youngest of the lot, all between the ages of three months and six years. Fifteen other children between the ages of seven and ten years are currently in a primary school in Asia. They only come home at weekends and on holidays. The rest of the time they stay in a manor similar to this one, under the guardianship of two of my most trusted associates. Ten children between the ages of ten and 17 years are attending several different magical schools, all abroad. They, too, come home on holidays.

There are 45 children that are staying in a medical and psychiatric institute, which is lead by an old acquaintance of mine. They have seen, heard and suffered too much to be able to live here amongst the other children. Some of them will never regain that which was stolen from them by the Wizarding World." Nicodemus' voice grew colder than ice at the end.

Nine years ago he wouldn't have believed that usually decent people were ready to abandon and stigmatise children for something none of them had ever done or had any control over.

As the war became crueller and crueller he had been forced to face some hard truths about people at large, and British wizards and witches especially. It had been those revelations that had killed his innocence bit by bit.

Now he trusted only in very few people, and there was only one person who he trusted with his life, his past, his name.

Draco froze after processing the last sentences. 45 children were damaged beyond any hope of recovery. Damaged not by an evil lunatic and his delusional followers, but by the forces of light. Not for the first time since his return to Britain three months prior, he felt helpless, like he was trapped in some kind of impossible, never-ending nightmare.

It was all so surreal. Adult wizards and witches hunting down defenceless children to hurt and humiliate them. At best they ignored the starving children. At worst they hit them whenever they could or used them to satisfy their own dark, forbidden desires.

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Not to forget that those children are the perfect scapegoats. If it were raining, it was naturally one of them casting dark magic.

"So it isn't really only "Hope's Nest" that you are leading, Mr. Stormcrow. It is a highly unusual career to choose for such a young man as yourself, no offence meant." Draco said casually.

One glance at the sleeping child, clutching at Mr. Stormcrow's nightshirt, had him convinced of the man's integrity and good intentions. He was still curious about him, he wanted to know more about the man who had a big enough heart and strong enough will to take in all those children, against all attempts of the Wizarding World to stop him.

Nicodemus allowed himself a slight smile at Malfoy's subtle way of interrogation. At least he isn't as annoying as Dumbledore always was while he tried to manipulate me. Well, he would just have to let his inner Slytherin out to play a bit, while maintaining his clueless, innocent outer mask, which was a mixture of his Gryffindor and Hufflepuff traits.

"None taken, Mr. Malfoy. As I've mentioned before, I had no plans to build an orphanage at all. And I am by no means young, Mr. Malfoy. Though you could say that "Hope's Nest" is in some aspects, a childhood dream come true for me. If those children have nothing else, they at least have a family now.

It was at this point that Nicodemus felt the magic surrounding Bridget and himself weakening and dissolve. Hurriedly he put his arms around her, to catch her when she awoke (...as he had already figured out that that would be the time her magic would dissolve).

Draco watched interestedly as the sleeping child awoke and how Mr. Stormcrow immediately took care of her. He was amused to notice that Mr. Stormcrow transfigured his pyjamas into much more appropriate black trousers and a white dress shirt, as soon as magic allowed. Well, here is my chance to observe how he treats the children.

He noted with wonder, and no small amount of sadness that the child smiled brilliantly as soon as (it) SHE recognised Mr. Stormcrow. He didn't miss how she pressed herself against him as soon as she noticed Draco's presence either. Mr. Stormcrow didn't seem to find such behaviour odd and started to soothe the still slightly sleepy child.

It was then that there was a short knock on the door. A split second later another child poked its dark haired head in, totally ignoring Draco, ist blue eyes searching intently, until they found Mr. Stormcrow. There had never been a bigger smile on any child's face than on this boy's upon finding Mr. Stormcrow.

"Good morning, Jacen. Is there something you need?" Mr. Stormcrow's voice cut through Draco's musings.

"No, sir. It's just that you weren't at breakfast and no one had seen you this morning at all." Jacen answered.

"I see. In that case could you accompany Bridget to the dining room, please? I expect her to be quite hungry after casting accidental magic. Make sure to let the others know I'm still here." ordered Mr. Stormcrow with sparkling eyes and a smile on his lips.

"Please, excuse the rude interruption, Mr. Malfoy. The children are afraid I will vanish from earth if they don't check up on me regularly."

I think I've seen enough for one day. The children are definitely safe here.

"There is no need to apologise, Mr. Stormcrow. I've taken up enough of your time as it is. When I made this appointment I didn't take your workload into consideration. Though I would like to continue our conversation at another time." Draco replied smoothly.

He really wanted to talk to Mr. Stormcrow again. What he had seen of the man's personality had intrigued him beyond any reason. He needed to put some physical distance between them, to put his thoughts and feelings in order again.

"You were no bother at all, Mr. Malfoy and you are welcome to return at any time." Mr. Stormcrow said, without missing a beat.

"Goodbye then, Mr. Stormcrow."

"Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy."

With those parting pleasantries done with, Draco wasted no time and apparated away. His last sight was the still sparkling eyes of Mr. Stormcrow with their eternal lightning storm inside.

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TBC

A big thank you to my wonderful, unbeleivably fast beta and to addy, who always tells me what he lliked/disliked at a chapter.

Thank you to all of my other reviewers as well.


	4. Hope's Nest4

**Disclaimer:** I think anyone and their grandma knows that do not own any of the characters of Harry Potter. I do own "Hope's Nest" though.

**Warnings: **There will be slash(m/m), as well as mentioning or dark actions.

This is the **un-betaed **version of chapter 4, so do forgive any errors you might find. The betaed version will be up sometime around 13th September.

**Thanks:** Because I don't want to get kicked off of ffnet I won't risk individual review responses. I am grateful for every single review I got and I hope this chapter won't disappoint you. If you wish to get individual review responses, please leave a short note in your review

**Hope's Nest**

**Chapter 4**

It was short after noon when Draco arrived at Snape Manor. He had nearly forgotten his appointment for lunch with his godfather over his emotional confusion caused by this morning's meeting with Mr.Stormcrow.

It has been real luck that Severus had sent an owl to tell him he'd be late. His godfather hated nothing more than someone wasting his time, not even Gryffindors. Draco had only once forgotten that he had an appointment with Severus and he still got the chills when remembering the man's fury and scathing, cutting remarks.

Before he could even knock on the door, it was the polite thing to do after all, a hoarse voice yelled at him to not be an imbecile and come in already. _Yes, no doubt, Severus is at home. _It was really a pity in Draco's eyes that Severus' voice broke during one of Voldemort's torture sessions. He had loved his godfather's deep, smooth voice deeply and had been lulled to sleep by it uncountable times during his first years at Hogwarts.

_And I wasn't even there to help him recover afterwards. I learned of it years later, too late to be of any help at all. There was no one to look after him, no one who cared. He was surrounded by people who didn't trust him as far as they could throw him at a time when he desperately needed a confidant, someone who actually gave a damn about his survival._

He had tried several times to get information about the war out of Severus, but the man was as silent as a grave about it.

After his father's imprisonment, Severus had sent Draco abroad to a private tutor in Sweden. Draco's mother had been furious, hell, Draco had been furious, but, if the Head of House proved to endanger his heir's future, the heir of the Malfoy line was under his godparents' guardianship.

It was Ancient Blood Magic that had been activated by his father's verdict. Severus hadn't wasted any time in sending Draco away, to keep him safe from Voldemort's clutches.

_I wonder what it was that got him so irritated. Ten galleons his delay was caused by some Gryffindor or Hufflepuff._

He found his godfather pacing agitatedly in front of the fireplace, his black robes fluttering behind him like some kind of flag, supporting the image of all encompassing fury his eyes conveyed.

"Hello, Severus. It's good to see you again." Draco greeted in a soft voice. His godfather's demeanour changed at once. He stopped his pacing and silently observed Draco's appearance. His dark eyes took in every single detail, from his tidy shoes to his freely falling hair. Slowly a true smile bloomed on his face and a warm glow crept into his obsidian eyes.

"It's good to see you again, too, Draco. You look well." Severus' hoarse voice somehow managed to sound as soft as a feather, his open caring and approval of him embraced Draco like a silken blanket.

Yes, eight years ago he had hated his godfather more than anyone else. Time and maturity had healed the wounds of the seeming betrayal in Draco's soul. He could never be grateful enough for his godfather's doings. Draco had been allowed the luxury to have a childhood, to grow old through time and not because of a merciless war. It was due to his absence in the war that Draco could walk on the street without being treated like a dark wizard or the Slytherin children of "Hope's Nest". At least he thought so.

"Do I want to know where your mind is at the moment or should I keep staying ignorant in regard to your adult experiences?" Severus teased in dry humour.

"What?"

"I just wondered what had you smiling in a world-forgetting way. You looked like a lovesick Hufflepuff for a moment." His godfather replied, his eyes sparkling in silent laughter.

"I thought of the war orphans whose parents were Slytherins or Death Eaters."

"That is hardly a reason to smile."

"Then I was thinking how well they are treated in "Hope's Nest"."

"You know about "Hope's Nest"?" surprise was evident in Severus' voice.

It was only all those years spent as a spy that kept the alarm from showing on his face. What was Draco's business with "Hope's Nest"? He wasn't used to be on his guard when talking with Draco anymore. He needed more information, without Draco getting suspicious. No easy task considering how intelligent and naturally suspicious his godson was.

Well, Severus wasn't Head of Slytherin for nothing. He had sworn to protect the secrets of "Hope's Nest" against everything and everyone. That included the headmaster of Hogwarts and the new Minister of Magic. He would do anything to protect the person he had come to love like the son he never had.

"Originally I was looking for some of my dead Housemates' children. It was then that I stumbled upon "Hope's Nest". Actually I had an appointment with its owner, Mr.Stormcrow, this very morning." Draco answered casually.

Draco's casualness and its contradiction to the mentioned happenings made Severus sit up. _I have to treat carefully now or he will know something's up._

"I take it you liked what you saw?" he asked lightly while motioning for Draco to sit down at the table, his tone as casual as Draco's had been.

Draco took his usual seat, directly across from his godfather, his fingers softly stroking the table's dark wood. It had been ten years since he'd last sat at that table. _Isn't it ironic that I feel more at home at a place I've been to on scarcely ten weekends in my whole life than I ever did in my ancestral home?_

"Yes. The children are well cared for and Mr.Stormcrow's good intentions seem to be sincere. He surely is an unusual man. I've never met anyone who practically radiated raw magical power like the sun radiates light before." He was interrupted by the food's arrival.

After a silent meal the men settled in two armchairs that stood near the fireplace. Draco used his godfather's absentmindedness to study him closely. Severus' black hair was streaked with grey and there were more lines in his face than Draco remembered. He was still tall and still kept his back and shoulders straight. Even people who had never heard of the Snape name before knew that Severus was of Old Blood. His posture and demeanour never let anyone doubt it. Draco also noted with no small amount of relief that his godfather looked healthier than the last time he'd seen him.

After his godfather finally pulled out of wherever his mind had wandered to, Draco asked determinedly the questions Severus had refused to answer in previous letters.

"What happened, Severus? Why are innocent children hunted down for their ancestry? And how did you, the unappreciated spy, manage to not be as persecuted and attacked as those poor children? Hell, why aren't I persecuted for being a Malfoy?"

Severus sighed, knowing well that he couldn't put off the tale any longer.

"In what would have been your sixth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort took his war into the open. Attacks happened at broad daylight and at very public places like Diagon Alley or famous muggle places like Big Ben. It was worse than during Voldemort's first reign. There was not one single day without another attack or the infamous black ministry envelops, that told of a dead family member and in which the ministry expressed their worthless condolence.

Three years later Harry Potter successfully infiltrated Voldemort's hidden castle and killed the monster once and for all. Sadly the magical backlash killed him as well, the castle collapsed on top of him.

If you think the victory had ended all prejudice of the British Wizarding World, you are sourly mistaken. There has never ever been more or more severe prejudice against Slytherins before in the history of Great Britain.

In regard of your and my own safety, well, we have Mr. Potter to tank for it." Severus explained his voice somewhere between sharp and remorseful.

"I thought Potter is dead?" Draco interrupted the little history tale.

A sad expression fleetingly touched Severus' face, then he smirked evilly.

"I think you know as well as I do that Mr. Potter positively despised Minister Fudge. He probably despised our late Minister of Magic even more than Voldemort. Do you really think he wouldn't have made precautions? In killing Voldemort Mr. Potter earned a Wizard's Debt of every single British witch and wizard. Knowing that he left a will in which he cashed those debts.

Anyone who tried to persecute or discriminate werewolves, vampires and a whole list of named people, who we are part of, loses not only his magic, but his very life." His smirk grew even more evil, cruel delight sparkling in his dark eyes.

"Apparently Minister Fudge had no faith at all in Mr. Potter's magical capabilities. He tried to charge me for treason, so he could get his hands not only on my fortune, but yours and Mr. Potter's as well. I will never see a sweeter sight than him being burnt to death by his own magical core. After that very public display no one dared to touch those groups or persons again."

"You are the heir of the Potter fortune? Is that a joke? Everyone and their owl knew how much you loathed each other." Draco exclaimed shocked.

"That is correct. However, Mr. Potter became my apprentice in sixth year. Gradually we learned to respect and trust each other, till we were the only confidant for the other. It was him who rescued me after my cover was blown. The other Order members were not inclined to risk their lives for an useless informant.

We often talked about the future as well as our very probable deaths. It seems Mr. Potter trusted only two persons with his fortune. After Remus Lupin's death that left only me."

Silence settled once more in the room. Draco had difficulties to believe how much the Golden Boy of Gryffindor had changed in his absence. The very concept of Severus Snape and Harry Potter as confidants was mind-boggling. He was intrigued by the picture of the man Severus had drawn through his tale.

"I think I would have liked to meet him, properly this time. We didn't have much of a chance in Hogwarts, did we?" Draco whispered thoughtfully.

Severus' eyes were sad when he answered: "No, there never is a chance for Gryffindors and Slytherins to become friends in Hogwarts."

"You never told me how it is that you know about "Hope's Nest"." Draco said.

"As you well know, I am still Head of the House of Slytherin. Where do you think I send my charges to after they are disowned by their families? I neither have the room nor the time to take them in myself. In return I provide "Hope's Nest" with all necessary potions." Severus replied, his eyes betraying the bitterness he felt in stead of his Slytherins.

"Dumbledore allows this outrage? That's hard to believe. He always seemed to care for all his students."

"Not even Dumbledore can force families to not disown their children. Though he punishes inter-House prank-wars harder than has ever been done by any Headmaster of Hogwarts before. The ministry is constantly in his neck because of his strict ruling, but they can hardly replace him for following Hogwarts' centuries old rules.

Sadly Mr. Potter didn't put all children that will ever be sorted into Slytherin under his protection. Not even I thought it possible that light wizards could ever fall to Voldemort's level and abuse children."

Severus clearly remembered one of the many nightly discussions he'd had with Harry Potter.

{Flashback}

There was only the light of the dying embers of the fireplace to illuminate Severus' private chambers. Two figures sat in the near dark room, talking in soft voices about anything and everything. They had discovered that it was easier to unburden one's soul when they couldn't see each other. It was easier to pretend that way, to pretend their talking partner was someone else. It may seem like an ominous way to establish trust between master and apprentice, but it had been the only possible way for them.

It was the night after the attack on prominent light families, early in Harry's seventh year. The attack had been concentrated on the Weasleys, the Bones, the Lovegoods, the Diggorys and the Craidens.

The Weasleys lost only three of their children, the twins and Percival. The other families hadn't been nearly as lucky.

The Bones and Diggorys didn't exist anymore. Luna Lovegood was an orphan now. The only surviving Craiden, a three years old boy, had been driven insane by torture and was now a ward of St. Mungo's.

"You know, I will win this war. No matter the cost. It's just that I realized something important today." Harry said in that strange, casual way and flat, emotionless voice he used since the beginning of the war. The other students had been freaked out by his changed behaviour, but Severus recognized the birth of a warrior when he saw one. That did in no way mean he wasn't concerned about the boy's emotionlessness.

"Pray tell, what is it that you realized, Mr. Potter?" Severus wanted to know.

Harry's casualness didn't lessen one bit when he answered: "Simply, I realized that Harry James Potter, the son of James and Lily Potter, cannot be allowed to survive the end of this war."

Severus straightened in his seat, alarm showing on his face, mind numbing fear gripping his heart in an iron grip. He wouldn't, he couldn't loose this boy to the same darkness that once had claimed him.

"Harry..." he started, but was interrupted by Harry signalling him to stop. That was another rule of their relationship; in private they only used first names, unless they wanted to tease each other.

"It's the symbol that has to die, not the person. Don't worry, Severus, I fully intend to survive this war. I want the chance to actually have lived a real life before I take my leave. Harry James Potter won't ever have the chance to live freely. He is nothing but a symbol to be used or misused at will. People will never let go of their convenient saviour. Therefore it is only logical that he cannot survive Riddle's death." Harry talked like he was presenting a project in class, his voice analytical, detached, his reasoning following a cold logic.

"But what happens after his death, Harry? The ministry won't change its ways and the resulting injustice will just produce another dark movement." Severus' dislike of the topic didn't hinder him to put his reasoning in. Harry didn't need to be coddled, nor should his ideas be dismissed. The young man had proven to be quite intelligent, even frighteningly so, his cold analytics of people and situations enabling him to manipulate his surroundings masterfully.

Severus hadn't been surprised in the slightest when he discovered in which House the sorting hat had wanted to put the Potter heir.

"You forget, Severus, that the Wizarding World as a whole will owe me a Wizard's Debt. A debt which I fully intend to cash. If the Wizarding World is deaf to reason and blind to history I will force them to change. I will protect the innocent, don't worry."

{End flashback}

"Severus?" Draco interrupted his godfather's short journey down memory lane, concern clearly written on his face. His godfather never let his attention wander; it was one of his most ingrained habits. When his godfather just sent him a questioning glance he continued: "You seemed a thousand miles away. Are you all right?"

Severus smiled slightly, but warmly at his godson. He was eternally glad to have been able to save Draco from the darkness. Their emotional connection had lessened somewhat over the war, but the bond was still there. Still, if he ever had to choose between Draco and "Hope's Nest" he knew who he'd choose.

TBC

Sorry for the format, ffnet keeps screwing it up. grrr


	5. Chapter5

Disclaimer: not mine

**Hope's Nest**

**Chapter 5**

It had been several days since Draco's visit to Snape Manor and Severus was still puzzled about his godson's near obsession with "Hope's Nest".

True, Draco possessed a natural curiosity that drove him to learn the why behind things, but that should have been sated by the information Draco's investigators presented him. His duty in regards of his former housemates' offspring was fulfilled; their habitation had been proven better than acceptable.

So, why was all Draco talked about in his letters "Hope's Nest"? The generous donation to the orphanage could be written off as further helping Slytherin children.

It wasn't suspicion that kept Draco's mind on "Hope's Nest", either. He was fully convinced that it was just an orphanage for the outcasts of society.

Well, perhaps Nicodemus had an idea where Draco's obsession stemmed from. He would have to remember to ask him about it, when he came over for their weekly dinner. The young man had a quite unique sense of kin, which didn't allow neglect of those he regarded as family. Not even on occasions when emergencies had left him tired beyond reason or one inch short of a complete breakdown.

A warm glow crept into Severus' obsidian eyes as he contemplated the extraordinary man he was proud to claim as family.

The hardships of war had left many scars and forced changes on Nicodemus' soul and heart, but his outer appearance had undergone the most drastic changes of all. Yet, in the end it had proven to be a blessing in disguise. There was no chance at all for anyone to find out who Nicodemus had been before, unless he chose to tell them, of course. So far Severus was the only one to know of his old identity.

* * *

Severus didn't have to wait longer than was usual for Nicodemus to arrive, as always, by stumbling out of his fireplace. Nicodemus' white hair was sticking up in every direction and his black and violet robes were flaring around him in that invisible wind that always seemed to surround him after travelling by magic.

A small smile stole onto Severus' face at the sight of the one person that was even more precious to him than his godson.

Seeing the harried expression in Nicodemus' eyes, worry replaced the joy in his eyes. If Nicodemus' possessed any character flaw at all, it was his inability to stand still, to rest, to take a break of his work, not even in his mind and thoughts.

In that regard Nicodemus' eyes truly mirrored his very soul, the purple magical lightening in his violet eyes an eternal burning fire, wild passionate, dangerous and ever changing.

"Sorry, I'm late. Duchess Stormcrow wished for my presence. She is convinced that if she doesn't ensure I take a break, in her very presence mind you, I wouldn't take one at all. She seems to forget that I'm 23, not three and therefore in no need of a keeper." Nicodemus explained exasperatedly. Yet there was no real anger in his voice and his eyes glowed warmly at the mention of his Head of family.

"So, what was her choice of torture this time? Did she order you to eat more? Again? No, wait, she called you a faithless changeling to neglect her as you did, didn't she?" Severus teased amused.

"Wrong and wrong. Seems to me that old age has weakened your sharp intellect at last."

Together they walked to the dining room, not too far from the living room. The hallway was barren of any pictures, quite unusual for a magical home. Spies couldn't afford to be spied on themselves and Severus had seen no need to change that after the war. The new ministry tried to keep taps on all the black sheep of society and former spy and Head of Slytherin House certainly belonged to them.

"It was much worse." continued Nicodemus.

At Severus' inquisitively raised eyebrow, he elaborated: "She wanted to know how Charlie is and why I didn't bring him with me."

Severus' mouth curled into an evil smirk. "Which undoubtedly led to you having to confess that you haven't been together for nearly four years now and explaining exactly why you didn't inform her of your mutual break up in the first place."

"That's right, laugh at those more unfortunate than you. Just so you know she still fishes for information regarding your non-existent family planning. She even showed me the cradle she hand crafted for you firstborn. "countered Nicodemus, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Now you know why I never go on vacation. If I keep myself busy at Hogwarts I simply haven't got the time or opportunity to visit her on the continent." Severus replied artfully, his enjoyment of the banter visible in his grin and relaxed posture.

They arrived at the dining room where the house-elves served the first course as soon as both wizards were seated.

* * *

At Malfoy Manor Draco was beyond irritated, he was furious. How dared those incompetent, pretentious, hypocritical ministry goons try to spy on him, at his ancestral home, no less.

Of course the observation spells and magical paintings had been removed immediately, but it was still outrageous. The ministry had no right, no right at all to enter the ancestral home of the old blood lines without invitation. The law that stated it was part of the original Ministry Charta.

Draco paced in front of the fireplace in the living room, his blue eyes nearly spraying sparks. He felt vulnerable and exposed in his own home and he didn't like it one bit. He seriously doubted that he would be able to eat here much less sleep at night.

A sigh escaped his lips. There was truly no other possibility; he would have to ask Severus for his hospitality. If his own home wasn't safe anymore he wouldn't risk an inn, where anyone could slip something in his food or break into his rooms at night.

He had hoped such paranoia wouldn't be needed after the war.

At least there was no chance in hell that anyone had been able to break into Snape Manor to place any spells, paintings or other spying objects.

Well, knowing his godfather he could use a little company.

* * *

TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: not mine

**Hope's Nest**

**Chapter 6:**

****

When Draco arrived at Snape Manor he was surprised to be greeted by a house-elf and not Severus himself. It was highly unusual for his godfather to leave the Manor's security to someone else.

On the other hand the wards around the Manor were one of the most lethal in the world. Anyone who tried to enter them without being keyed in was due for a horrible, painful death.

_Perhaps he is in his lab. Merlin knows nothing short of an attacking army could drag him out of there when he is experimenting._

Draco followed the house-elf to the yellow dining room, by far the most homely of the dining rooms in Snape Manor. He was a little surprised; he remembered that Severus preferred to dine in the bigger, though colder traditional dining room on the second floor.

Dismissing the house-elf Draco entered the warmly lit room. It was all he could do not to let his chin meet the floor at the sight that greeted him.

Not only did his antisocial godfather have a guest, no that guest was none other than the mysterious Nicodemus Stormcrow himself.

"Draco! What are you doing here? Did something happen?" Severus' worried tone helped Draco to focus.

"Do excuse me, Severus; I didn't know you were entertaining tonight. I will come back tomorrow." Draco replied, relying on the manners that had been deeply ingrained in him since his birth to bring his whirling thoughts to order.

_What is he doing here? Why didn't Severus mention that he knew him? Don't look at the eyes, Draco; you've already made enough of a fool of yourself._

"Nonsense, Draco. There is no reason for you to leave at all. I understand that you met already, so I won't have to introduce you to each other. Take a seat and eat with us. You can explain yourself later." Severus replied, his dark eyes betraying some of the worry he felt.

"I couldn't possibly intrude…"argued Draco.

It was at this point that Nicodemus felt the need to interfere. "Mr.Malfoy there truly is no need for your apologies. We are both family to Severus after all. Take a seat and share dinner with us as is custom."

Nicodemus' deep voice seemed to reach into Draco's very core and set it alight with a warming fire.

Reluctantly Draco took the offered seat next to his godfather. _Not good, not good. How am I to resist looking in his eyes when he sits right across me?_

* * *

Severus watched fascinated how his godson reacted to Nicodemus presence. Draco had never before let anyone keep him away from spending time with his godfather and now he tried to politely, though futilely, to do exactly that. _Interesting, very interesting. I wonder what has him so flustered._

After the house-elves served the next course, he started his interrogation: "So, Draco, what prompted your visit to Snape Manor?"

He was surprised at the fury the question ignited in his godson's eyes. _Seldom has a child been named so aptly, a dragon he is indeed._

"I checked the wards at Malfoy Manor and discovered that they had been severely tempered with. Of course this discovery had me checking the whole Manor for spells or damage. Nearly every room and every painting was layered with observance spells, Severus. They broke into the ancestral home of my bloodline and set up surveillance." Draco answered with clenched teeth, his voice colder than ice.

Nicodemus laughed at Draco's indignant fury. When Draco looked into his eyes, his expression promising pain, he said: "Did you really expect people who actively approve of the persecution and abuse of children to respect your privacy or the old laws?"

There was no mirth in Nicodemus' glowing eyes at all. "The ministry and its people truly believe themselves above their own laws. They think only _light _families have the right to be protected by laws. I didn't build "Hope's Nest" because I wanted to; it was built out of necessity."

Draco noticed how the red lightening in Nicodemus' eyes spread over the rest of his body, shooting off little sparks. _Yes, no doubt here, he truly detests the new ministry. No wonder they leave him be. If **I **were already on his bad side I wouldn't want to anger him any further either._

"That is enough, Nicos. Control yourself." Severus' voice could have cut steel. His dark eyes were shining not with anger, but worry and compassion, as he noticed a magical wind playing with white hair. "If you lose control that easily you are clearly beyond exhaustion. I will not hesitate to write the Duchess if that is what it takes to make you rest."

It was the use of his nickname that brought Nicodemus' thoughts back to his surroundings. He slightly shook his head before bowing to both men. "My apologies, it is a topic I feel quite strongly about. Strong emotions are taxing on my control." The magical wind settled down again and the lightening retreated into his eyes.

Draco noticed that although the wind had settled down there was still a slight breeze waving in Nicodemus' white mane. Trying to keep tempers down he allowed his curiosity free rain. "I didn't know Severus and you were related, Mr.Stormcrow. For that matter, I didn't know Severus had any relations left at all."

"That would be because Severus and I are not related by blood. Severus' only living relation is the Duchess Noctifer Aurelia Stormcrow, Head of the House of Stormcrow and Keeper of the Line of Old. Nearly 500 years ago Severus' ancestor was born as Duchess Stormcrow's younger half-brother.

The Duchess took me under her wings after the Old Blood in me awakened. I was the only one left of my Line, so she adopted me into hers. Severus was ordered to look after me as long as I stay on the British Isles."

Severus only just managed to keep the surprise off his face and his eyebrows down. Nicodemus never talked about his past or family, never. Even Charlie had only known that Severus and Nicodemus were friends, he still didn't know about the duchess or the Old Lines. _I may be getting old, but I am still not blind and with my eyes I see two young men behaving in quite unusual patterns around each other. Aunt Noctifer will be ecstatic._

* * *

Dinner progressed in a civilised manner. It was when dessert was served that all hell broke lose, again.

The amulet around Nicodemus' neck started to glow in an ever stronger growing blue light. Soon it shone like a little blue sun and chiming could be heard.

Without saying a word Nicodemus vanished in a short burst of magic and wind.

"Dear Circe, not another. "whispered Severus. His face had lost its last bits of colour and in his black eyes stood despair.

"Severus, are you alright?"asked a concerned Draco. At Severus weak nod, he continued: "What happened? What was that light and chiming?"

Severus raised his glass of whine and took several sips. Slowly the despair in his eyes was replaced by cold burning anger and deep seating contempt.

He looked into the questioning face of his godson and answered: "That was Nicodemus' emergency charm. It starts glowing whenever a child wearing a necklace with the Stormcrow crest is in danger or activated its portkey functions. It starts chiming when the child in question is severely wounded or near death."

For several minutes Draco was silent, then he stated: "That wasn't the first time the charm was activated, was it? What is happening here, Severus? And how can I help?"

"What is happening? Most of the British Wizarding World has obviously gone mad. How you can help? First you make sure not to become a target yourself. It has been some time since a wizard was stupid enough to disregard the Potter life debt; if you don't tread carefully they might try something hoping the life debt's magic has dissipated. Fools that they are.

If you want to do more, you will have to ask Nicodemus. "Hope's Nest" is the only place where the victims are cared for and safe."

A hard look entered Draco's icy eyes and he nodded. "Than that is what I will do. Will you be alright here, alone?"

"I am no invalid, thank you."was the acid reply.

Draco smiled slightly, stood up and walked to the door. His godfather's next question made him pause, then turn. "Where are you going?"

"To "Hope's Nest", to help."

* * *

In the infirmary of "Hope's Nest" Nicodemus stood next to the healers who tried desperately to safe the young girl that had arrived not ten minutes ago.

She was small, surely no older than fourteen years and there was blood all over her body. The bones at her wrist were visible where she had fought to free herself of chains or rope. Her face was so swollen and discoloured it was impossible to make out her features.

She was dangerously thin and clothed in near to nothing dirty old rags, that managed to cover only just her chest and upper thighs, where there weren't holes or tears.

One of the healers walked over to Nicodemus to report, his face grave: "She will live for the night, but if she continues to do so is up to her and after what she had to live through I doubt her will to live will be strong enough to stay with us.

She's got a concussion though luckily no brain swelling or fractures in the skull. Three of her ribs were broken, as were her hipbones, the bones in her right forearm and both ankles. I don't expect there to be complications with any of the breaks, they will heal.

However she suffered much more serious internal damage. Her kidneys are bruised, her liver is swollen. Her uterus has been nearly destroyed. There will never be a chance for her to receive a child.

There were countless inner bleedings that we managed to stop, but she has lost a dangerous amount of blood and we dare not give her another potion, it would put her body into shock.

It is of outmost importance that she rests, without the aid of potions. The only ones strong enough would interfere with the healing."

Nicodemus nodded, the lightening in his eyes intensifying in his silent rage, fighting with tears.

Then he signalled the healers to leave and settled down in a chair next to the girl's bed. When the healers had left he allowed his magic free reign. Red lightening danced out of his eyes and skin and sank into the girl's body, strengthening her, making her feel safe and protected.

It was a form of magic that was as old as the world itself. It was powerful and dangerous magic and could only be safely wielded by those chosen few of Old Blood.

Retreating deep into his magical core, Nicodemus let his very blood become life giving magical fire, felt his very being become one with the origin of all magic.

_"The Duchess will kill me if she learns of this, that is if I don't manage to kill myself with it first."_

**TBC**

Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: not mine

Warnings: dark, mention of child abuse, politics

**Hope's Nest**

**Chapter 7:**

Late evening found the British Minister of Magic ranting furiously to his wife, the light of the fire nearly as orange-reddish as his fair.

"I don't believe it. I had to spend two hours talking to some ignorant French fools that insisted on reporting a case of child abuse. Child abuse! As if those dark vermin were children! And they didn't even relent after I explained to them that they were dark wizards. I tell you, Mione, those foreign wizards sure have strange moral standards. They thought it a crime, a crime, Hermione! As if you could possibly commit a crime against dark wizards. And when I told them so, they had the audacity to call me an evil monster. Me, a light wizard, a monster, because I refuse to see a crime where none was committed."

Hermione Weasley sighed unhappily. It wasn't anything new that foreign wizards complained at the ministry about the vermin littering the streets of Diagon Alley. She could sympathize with her husband. Wizards from abroad just didn't seem to get the concept of light and dark wizards that came instinctually to British light Wizarding families. They only saw children while British wizards saw the true monster behind the child-mask.

Yet, that incident alone couldn't have made her husband rant for nearly an hour. There was more to the story, she was sure.

"Please, dear, sit down and tell me what happened. I need to know all of it if I am to help you."

Ron stopped his pacing and settled down on the couch next to his wife.

"There was another portkey incident reported." His voice sounded more defeated than angry now.

"Another portkey? Honestly, Ron, didn't you ordered them blocked? And what of the anti-portkey wards that were installed in Diagon Alley and nearly everywhere else?" Hermione questioned, indignant at the notion that another dark wizard escaped his confinement.

"The wards work on every portkey but the ones the children use to escape. And they are too powerful to be blocked. Believe me, we tried."

"Well, if you cannot block the portkeys you will have to block the source they come from. You do know where those monsters escape to, don't you?" Hermione reasoned her logic as flawless as ever.

"If only it were that easy. The monsters escape to "Hope's Nest". There is no way for us to interfere with the orphanage's business. It is protected. If the monsters where taken anywhere else I could order that place closed or degree it illegal. But there is no way to do so with "Hope's Nest", you know that."

"The name alone is a travesty. For that alone it should be closed and destroyed. But what do you mean, "it is protected"?"

"The orphanage is well known abroad. Nearly half of its inhabitants have a foreign citizenship in addition to their British one. Just yesterday I had a meeting with the French emissary, he reminded me that should anything happen to "Hope's Nest" or its inhabitants there would be hell to pay."

Hermione snorted derisively. "Please, what could they do? Declare war because of one measly orphanage?"

"That is exactly what I said, too. Do you know what he answered, Hermione?"

Seeing Hermione shake her head, he continued: "They would take it as the last sign that our society is evil and needs to be destroyed before the illness can spread over the rest of Europe like it did in Grindelwald's time."

The silence that followed his words was icy and foreboding.

* * *

A small teenage boy looked around the edge of the corridor that led to the orphanage's infirmary. He had black hair, delicate features, grey eyes and was really small for his fifteen years. Though if the healers were to be believed, it was a wonder he had grown at all, as malnourished as he had been. He had only shrugged his shoulders then and told them that his master liked his whores to be small and delicate. 

Simon shook his head. He hated to think about his past and usually he succeeded very well in forgetting that there had ever been a time before "Hope's Nest". It was impossible not to remember though, when a newcomer lay in the infirmary. And the newcomers' first stay was always the infirmary, they were always nearly famished and they were always badly hurt.

Simon shuddered as his mind threatened to wander back to that terrible dark and cold room, to the men that came and used him, one after the other till he couldn't even breathe anymore.

Strictly he reminded himself that he had a task to fulfil. Nicodemus had gone straight to the infirmary when he came back from his friend's house and had stayed there for more than three hours now. Simon would just look if he was still there and then report back to the other children.

Slowly and soundlessly he walked to the infirmary door, entered and looked for his quarry. What he saw made him gasp in both fright and delight.

Nicodemus was sitting next to the bed of the newcomer, a girl, and glowing like a miniature red sun. Red lightening crackled over his and the girl's skin. And even from where he was standing Simon could see how shallow Nicodemus' breath had become.

Fear crept into his heart and panic stole into his eyes. What should he do? Nicodemus needed help, yet he had strongly forbidden anyone to touch or near him when he glowed or crackled in red light.

An adult! Simon needed an adult. Surely an adult would need what to do, how to help. Quickly Simon ran out of the infirmary and down the stairs. There were no other adults living in "Hope's Nest" but Nicodemus, most of the children were too afraid to sleep under the same roof with them. They liked their teachers and healers but they couldn't sleep in their presence. Sleep meant being vulnerable and their subconscious minds trusted only their saviour not to use their vulnerability.

Nicodemus had understood the children but insisted that they went to fetch a house-elf when they needed an adults' help and he wasn't available. The house-elves would know who to call.

Simon reached the entrance hall. Calling out for a house-elf, he didn't notice there was a man in the hall till he ran into him.

Simon's already weak hold on his panic snapped and he started to scream.

* * *

Draco didn't know what he had expected upon his arrival at "Hope's Nest", but to be nearly bowled over by an obviously panicked boy hadn't been among it.

He started when the dark haired boy started to scream. It wasn't a sound Draco had ever heard from any human being. It was a shrill, never ending note that went straight through his marrow. The scream would have made a Banshee green with envy and it froze Draco's soul to hear it come from a little boy.

_Where the hell is everyone? Surely they heard his scream? Why isn't anyone coming? They must think someone is skinning the boy alive._

Draco had no experience with children, let alone abused children. He didn't want to do anything that would make the boy feel worse and he was relatively sure that coming near him or touching him would make it worse.

Slightly panicked himself he looked frantically around the hall, but there wasn't anyone there.

"Shh, calm down. I won't hurt you. Do you know where Mr.Stormcrow is? I am Draco Malfoy; I come from a Slytherin family. What is your name?" he babbled in the hope that at least some of what he said would come through the boy's panic and fear.

_Nicodemus wouldn't have left any of his children screaming like that without investigating. But I know for a fact that he went here. The boy was running down the stairs, he didn't even see me. Think Draco, think! Nicodemus told you the children were overprotective of him, there must have happened something to him to have the boy so panicked._

"Did something happen to Nicodemus? Does he need help? Where is he?"

* * *

Slowly words reached him through the protective haze his mind had erected. _Nicodemus…name…Slytherin…Nicodemus…help…Nicodemus! He needs help an adult!_ Simon finally snapped out of his fear induced panic and stopped screaming.

"Nicodemus needs help. He isn't breathing right and he glows and we aren't allowed to come near him when he does and he needs an adult and the house-elves know who to call and…"bubbled out of the still scared boy.

He looked at the unknown man. Silver eyes, silver-blond hair, tall, expensive clothes. Simon had never seen the man before, but he knew that the wards kept people with hostile minds out of the grounds, so there was no reason to be afraid of him.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice quivering slightly.

"My name is Draco Malfoy. I was having dinner with Mr.Stormcrow before he had to leave due to an emergency. I came here to see if I could help. My apologies for frightening you." Draco answered, trying to stay calm despite his worry about Nicodemus.

"Please bring me to Mr.Stormcrow. If I am to help him I need to know which kind of help he needs."

Simon shook his head. "He is doing magic to help heal the new girl. He did it to help me, too. But his breath is getting shallow, which it shouldn't and normally doesn't. He said it is dangerous to approach him when he does that kind of magic. You won't be able to help him."

The boy sounded scared and defeated. _If it is dangerous to approach him it is even more dangerous to cast healing spells at him. The boy said he's glowing and Severus was worried tonight when he started to do so at dinner…Severus! He should know what to do!_

Fast Draco went to the fireplace in the back of the hall, threw floopowder into it and called "Snape Manor".

* * *

The young girl's soul plane was dark and icy. Red fog made it impossible to see one's own hand in front of his eyes. Normally a child's soul plane was a sunny place, filled with toys, fairies, unicorns and laughter. 

Nicodemus had learned the hard way that an abused child's soul plane was always dark. It was the child's hiding place while simultaneously reflecting the monstrosities they had endured.

He didn't walk; he led his magic draw the girl's soul to him. Slowly a shape became visible, a mere shadow in the fog. It was the girl, her form curled in herself, her eyes closed, her arms hugging her knees.

The form drifted to him, till he held her curled form carefully in his arms. He treated the soul as if it was more fragile than a glass figurine.

"Hello there, little one." He whispered his magic pulsing through his arms into the unconscious girl.

_Curiosity _flowed back at him.

"My name is Nicodemus Stormcrow."

The girl's presence grew stronger.

"What is your name, little one?"

_Thoughtfulness _then hesitantly _whore?_

Nicodemus shook his head, his heart crying endless tears. To think what had been sacrificed to save this world and now there were children that thought their names were "whore", "slut" or "it".

"No. My name is "Nicodemus Stormcrow". You are?"

_Hesitance, remembering, soft voices, bright smiles _then joyfully _Nimue_

"A beautiful name. A pleasure to make you acquaintance, Nimue."

_Joy, curiosity, question_

"You are lost, Nimue. I am here to show you the way back."

_Refusal, terror, hurt_

"You are safe at "Hope's Nest". Remember? You activated the portkey."

_Pain, horror, hope?_

"Yes, you are safe."

The shadow in his arms began to solidify. The girl's eyelashes fluttered, her presence growing stronger with every breath she took.

_Home, hope, trust_

"That's right, Nimue. You will have a home at "Hope's Nest". We are a big family there."

Slowly Nimue opened her eyes. Her now solid body gaining colour, she had wavy, light brown hair and striking pastel green eyes. Her lips curled to a tired, but hopeful smile. Nicodemus smiled back, his tired eyes showing his pride in her.

Nimue opened her mouth and after several tries she managed to form words. "Home?" she inquired.

"Yes, we are going home now." Nicodemus answered smiling.

His eyes glowed brightly, enveloping both their forms, the darkness already growing brighter. Then they vanished from the soul plane, their minds going back into their bodies.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** any canon characters and concepts obviously belong to JKR, Hope's Nest and any original characters however are mine

**Warnings:** mention of child abuse, slash, torture

* * *

**Hope's Nest**

**Chapter 8**

Snape felt his heart stop beating after receiving Draco's frantic fire call. For an agonizingly long moment time and thought stopped, then reality rushed mercilessly back in his mind, causing his heart to race in his chest and his thoughts to trip over each other.

His right hand wandered to the middle of his chest, where beneath several layers of black cloth laid the ancient talisman that would allow him to call for his godmother if the situation was too dire for mortals to help.

Quickly throwing a handful of floopowder into the fire, he flooed to "Hope's Nest"'s infirmary.

What he saw upon his arrival caused his heart to clench in real alarm. Nicodemus very skin was glowing like he didn't have blood but pure light flowing through his veins. Light that was dripping out of his eyes, ears and nose like real blood would.

There had only been one other time in Severus' life when he had felt such all consuming fear and it had been nearly the very same image that had caused it.

**/flashback/**

_Severus hurried through the wasteland and rubble that not one hour ago had been a large manor and blooming gardens. Yes, the Dark Lord's latest hiding place had been a mocking paradise of peace and growth._

_Now there was only burnt earth and ruined stone left, marks of a magical battle of epic proportions. What couldn't be seen but Severus knew, was that not only plants and stones had been burnt to ashes, but every single one of the Death Eaters as well._

_He had witnessed how magical lightening and fire had come down from the heavens to punish and destroy, called there by a young man, barely eighteen years old, called not by spell or ritual but by the magic in Harry's very soul._

_The magical outburst caused the elements to go crazy, earth bursting open, wind whipping in every direction, fire and lava crawling out of the open ground, rain hailing from above. Yet all that havoc had been restricted to the immediate area surrounding the Dark Lord's residence._

_And as nothing from within that area had been able to reach out, no outward influence was allowed in, as Severus noticed when he repeatedly tried to enter, to get to his young companion and support him._

_Despair was apparent on Severus usually stoically blank face when he couldn't find any signs of life. He refused to give up hope though. Harry couldn't be dead wasn't allowed to be dead. Tears gathered in Severus' onyx eyes, tears he wouldn't shed till he had turned every stone in his search for the young man he had come to love like a son._

_Through the haze of his watery sight he noticed a pulsing red-violet fire at the very centre of destruction. Cautiously he approached the fire, his eyes widening in disbelief at the image his eyes perceived._

_Lying on the ground was Harry Potter, his body convulsing, violet fire and red lightning surging in and out of his skin, his mouth, his nose, his ears and eyes. Blood flowed out of numeral wounds, blood that glowed violet-red and glowed brighter with every passing second._

_Severus reached out to gather Harry in his arms, but his hands met with an invisible barrier, the very same barrier that prevented his entrance to the battleground before._

_Helplessly he watched as Harry's black hair turned into a blinding white and his blood changed to light._

_Nearly overcome with despair Severus fell to his knees, pained by his inability to help. There was a deep, agonizing hurt in his chest and his hand clutched at the place where his heart would be if he had one. His hand encountered something hard and warm under the cloth._

_With shaking hands he reached under his robes, grasping warm metal. Slowly he pulled it out. It was a warm circular piece of metal, engraved with the crest of the House of Stormcrow._

_Hope exploded in Severus' heart at the crest's sight. Quickly he cut his hand with a sharp splinter of glass and let three drops of his blood drop onto the amulet._

_It was obvious that **he **couldn't help Harry, but he could call someone who **could**._

**/end flashback/**

* * *

Curious despite his worry about Nicodemus Draco observed how his godfather pulled out an amulet from beneath his clothes, cut his hand with a small knife and let blood drop onto the amulet.

The amulet started to glow in a bright yellow light, a light that grew until it took the shape of a small human. Then a bright flash forced him to close his eyes.

When Draco opened his eyes again the light had vanished, leaving behind a small woman standing in the middle of the infirmary who radiated power in the same way Nicodemus did.

She was not much taller than a twelve years old child and yet her very presence demanded respect. Long bronze hair was freely flowing down her back, setting a nice accent to the deep blue of her dress.

Her dark blue eyes quickly took in the room's occupants before coming to rest on Nicodemus slumped form.

An angry frown marred her young, heart shaped face, green lightning flashing in her eyes . With three quick steps she was next to Nicodemus.

Two small white hands gently came to rest on his forehead and heart. Green light began to emit from her hands and seeped into Nicodemus' body, forcing red-violet flames back into his soul.

The flow of light/blood stopped and Nicodemus' breathing was deep and even again.

The hands left their places. The right one gestured at the nearest bed, causing its blanket to fold open. The left one gestured at Nicodemus, causing his body to float onto that bad, the blanket automatically covering him.

Then the strange woman set down on a chair next to Nicodemus' bed and gently stroked his wild white hair.

"You stupid, stupid boy. How often have I told you to rest, less you lose control of your magic?" she whispered, her voice as deep and silky as Severus'.

Then her sharp eyes rose to meet exhausted onyx. "Severus, my dear boy, you look tired. No wonder he doesn't follow your orders to rest, he never was one to follow a hypocrite."

A tired smile stole onto Severus' face, his relief at her presence obvious. "I do occasionally rest, Milady. It is only my worry about your charge that leaves me weary and tired."

"And as usual you have an excuse for neglecting your own health and well being. I think this time I will stay here and ensure that you will follow my orders to rest myself. Now be so nice as to introduce me to the young man over there that is going to catch flies if he doesn't close his mouth."

Startled Draco forced his mouth to close. This seemingly young woman was chastising his godfather as if he were a disobedient child and not several years her elder.

Sighing at the prospect of his godmother's prolonged stay, Severus gestured Draco to come nearer. "Milady, may I introduce Draco Malfoy, my godson. Draco, may I introduce Duchess Noctifer Aurelia Stormcrow, Head of the House of Stormcrow and Keeper of the Line of Old, my godmother."

Draco's eyes grew impossibly large, his pupils so dilated that there was only a sliver of silver visible. Remembering his manners, Draco bowed and said: "I am honoured to make your acquaintance, Milady. You look charming."

A cat-like smile curled the duchess's lips. "My, what a well mannered and silver tongued child you are. It is apparent that you didn't spend much time in my Severus' presence."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Severus is many things, but well mannered he is not. Tell me about you, young Malfoy. How is it that you are here? Nicos didn't mention any new co-workers at his last visit."

"I do not work here, Milady. Severus told me of the latest emergency at "Hope's Nest" and I came here to offer my help. One of the orphans told me that Mr.Stormcrow was in need of help, so I notified Severus of his condition." Draco couldn't prevent his eyes from worriedly looking at Nicodemus' sleeping form.

The duchess noticed the direction his looks took and her smile grew even wider, true delight shining in her eyes.

"Do not worry, he is only sleeping. Come morning he will be fit again."

* * *

Ron Weasley sighed deeply as he noticed the determined glint in his wife's eyes. He had hoped to have a quiet and relaxing breakfast as was his tradition on Saturday mornings, before going to the ministry where he would have to face the piling up problems in the Foreign Office.

Yet one glance at his wife and he'd known for sure, that there would be no quiet anything till she'd had her way.

Putting down the _Daily Prophet _he looked into his wife's brown eyes and asked: "What is it, Hermione?"

Hermione angrily put down her fork and replied: "I understand that you cannot stop the portkeys once they are activated, but, Merlin, surely you can prevent those monsters to get them into their grubby clutches. Or at least prevent "Hope's Nest" from creating any more!"

"Mione, dear, I don't think you can understand this one."

Seeing how his wife prepared to rip him verbally to shreds, he hurriedly explained: "You are muggleborn, dear, so naturally there are some Wizarding laws you are not able to understand because you aren't aware of their cultural origin.

The creator of those troublesome portkeys is none other than Nicodemus Stormcrow. He is of Old Blood, therefore only has to keep to the Old Laws. Even if he should break one of those he wouldn't be under our jurisdiction but that of the Council of Avalon.

The portkeys he creates aren't your normal portkeys, but amulets with the crest of Stormcrow. Every person wearing the crest of Stormcrow is under the jurisdiction and protection of the House of Stormcrow, therefore untouchable for us.

The amulets are charmed so that only the specified persons can touch and activate them safely. To even touch an amulet with the crest of an Old Line without permission is punishable by death, Hermione.

So, you see, there really is no way to stop those portkey troubles. It is out of our jurisdiction and every infringement would have dire consequences. You do not go around pissing off the Old Lines; you cannot even imagine the power they hold, the destruction they could unleash."

He could see that his wife was still upset and angry, but there was nothing he could do about that.

"Where do they take the right from to interfere with our laws? We only look to it that those dark children cannot wreck the havoc their predecessors did. I was there, Ron. With my own eyes I witnessed what those children were able and willing to do.

I had to watch as they cast _Imperio _on my father and forced him to take a kitchen knife, forced him to cut off my mother's fingers one by one. I had to watch as a thirteen years old Slytherin, a student I had seen many times in Hogwart's Great Hall, cast one dark curse after the other on my mother, till her heart gave out and her mangled body was barely recognizable as human anymore.

I had to watch as my father was then forced to rape his dead wife's body, tears running down his face, his eyes as lifeless as those of my mother. After a short discussion what would be more painful for my father, they decided to leave him, alive and knowing what he did.

They looked like innocent children, none of them older than fifteen years. Because of them I lost both my parents in one night, my mother to death and my father to the horrors of his own mind.

No, I know what kind of masks those monsters wear; I won't be taken in by their young faces anymore.

We have done everything we could to make our people aware of the deceit and now one delusional pureblood destroys all our efforts, undermines our authority and jurisdiction!"

Tears of grief and anger ran down her cheeks and Ron quickly stood up to pull her into an embrace. The violent loss of her parents was a wound his wife refused to let heal. She had sworn to never forget that monsters came with the faces of children, too.

**

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**TBC**

This chapter was harder to write than I'd thought, so please tell me what you liked/disliked. Thanks.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** anything you recognize from cannon belongs to JKR, the rest is mine

**Warnings: **the same as always, **dark**, **mention of child abuse**, **slash**

If you want to archive the story or list it somewhere, please ask me about it.

* * *

**Hope's Nest**

**Chapter 9:**

Light was streaming through the infirmary's windows, enveloping the two resting figures in a warm, orange glow, while creating shadows on the walls and floor.

Draco straightened in the chair he had spent the night in, tiredly blocking the light from his silver eyes. His hair was a mess and his clothes rumpled.

Concerned and curious he surveilled the two sleeping patients. The young girl next to Nicodemus' bed looked terrible. He could see that most of her wounds had already been healed, but she still looked like death warmed over. Draco had seen pictures of resurrected corpses that looked healthier than the girl.

He didn't want to imagine what she had been through. It was hard enough to see the results; he really, really didn't want to know what caused them.

_I wonder how she came to be here. She is too injured to have come here by herself. Really, now that I think about it, where do all the children come from? The ministry must hate this place, so why is it still standing?_

His wonderings were interrupted by the entrance of a small crowd of children, varying between the ages of three and sixteen years old. The only thing they all had in common was their small height.

_And no wonder, the body needs nourishment to grow, after all._

The children eyed him fearfully, but none the less crept nearer to Nicodemus' bed. Draco didn't move and didn't talk. He didn't want to send them into a panic like the boy last night. And now that their protector was ill, he reckoned that they were even easier to startle than usual.

So he watched amusedly as the children surrounded the bed, the youngest even crawling on top of it and snuggling up to Nicodemus' sleeping form. It was simply amazing, the amount of trust the children had in their keeper. He wasn't an expert, but he did know that abused persons often had trouble trusting other people. Yet, it seemed like Nicodemus was exempt from that natural distrust.

* * *

Sitting in Nicodemus' office, cradling a cup of strong black tea in his hands, Hogwart's most infamous professor currently wished to be anywhere else but here. He had known that by calling for his godmother he risked her inquisition, but he didn't have to like it. And damn if the woman didn't make him feel like a child.

_It must be the centuries of practice she's had, not even Albus can make me feel like that anymore._

"Severus, I demand to be told what is happening in this country. There is no way that Nicos could have exhausted his powers by one healing. He is more powerful than half of the Council together, so he must have used an inordinate amount of power continuously over a long period of time.

He didn't mention anything that strenuously in his letters or during his visits, which he would have done if there was nothing to hide. I knew that he had an orphanage; I knew that some of the children had been abused.

Now, I want to know what the rest of it. Out with it, child!"

Duchess Storm crow's voice was icy. Her dark blue eyes were actually sparkling with green lightening and there was a dangerous set to her usually soft mouth. Severus sighed.

"Milady, you are a Keeper and therefore part of the Council. If Nicos had told you about what was happening here in the British Wizarding World, you would have been obligated to take the matter to the Council.

Nicos wanted to wait till he could prove his accusations without the shadow of a doubt. It hurt him to deceive you so, but you know him. Once he was set on his course it would have taken several deities to change his mind." He told her, his voice carefully modulated to be neutral.

His godmother's eyes narrowed in anger.

"Severus, I couldn't love you more if you were my own child, but if you don't tell me this instant what that matter is without your usual dodging and redirecting I will do something we will both regret."

Severus swallowed hard. He knew it wasn't his place to tell, but unfortunately the person responsible for this current disaster was still asleep in the infirmary, recovering from a life-threatening magical exhaustion.

Carefully taking a small sip from his tea, Severus finally started to speak: "When Nicos came to visit me he was unprepared for the sight that awaited him in Diagon Alley. I had done my best to keep him away, because I knew that once he witnessed the horrors of today's regime, he couldn't not help its victims.

The ministry believes that evil begets evil, Milady. So in order to destroy the evil of darkness they destroy the offspring of their former opponents.

They hunt those children down and punish them for being dark wizards. They use them as slaves of any kind, starve them, kill them.

And they can do it in broad daylight, because those children are only monsters in disguise. There will be no punishment for the abusers, because those children are lesser than even animals and therefore have no rights.

You know about the four Houses in Hogwarts? Any child that is sorted into Slytherin will be disinherited and is from that moment on marked as dark and evil in the eyes of the British Wizarding World.

Nicos helps those children. He gives them a home and his protection. And he is collecting evidence. Once he has collected enough he planned to bring the matter to the Council."

For a short moment a deadly silence reigned in the room. Then his godmother practically hissed: "Are you telling me, that the whole British Wizarding World is openly violating not only its own laws, but Old Law as well? That they are breaking the first law?"

Severus had believed that Nicos horror at the violation of that particular Old Law had been a result of his kind heart. Now, looking into his godmother's deathly furious eyes he knew better.

Severus didn't know the Old Laws. Nearly none but those of Old Blood knew them nowadays. There had been no need, because Wizarding law had always included its principles.

"I don't know about Old Law, Milady, but, yes, they are breaking their own laws."he answered.

"There are only three rules Old Blood has to follow, Severus.

Thou shall not harm children.

Thou shall not break the rules of hospitality.

Thou shall not abuse thy power.

There is no Wizarding Society on Earth that does not adhere to those rules. It has been centuries since last the Council had to take action. We do not interfere with your petty wars because you are the cause of them. Mortals shall reap what they saw or they will never learn from their mistakes.

I will talk with Nicos before bringing the matter before the Council. It seems we will have a very long discussion, indeed."

"Milady?"

"Do you know why every Line of Old has a Keeper, Severus?"

"To function as a Head of Family."

His godmother smiled wistfully and shook her head. "That is only partially correct. The Keeper does indeed function as Head of Line, but her primary function is to prevent the change."

"The change, Milady?"

"When the Old Blood awakens, it physically changes its host, so that his body may survive the influx of magical energy.

But if the awakened weakens his body and uses more and more power, the Old Blood will change him a second time. That second time is called the change, because it is irreversible and can only be prevented by a Keeper.

You have to understand that once the Old Blood awakens one has no limit in regards of power but ones own body. And if you wish to avoid the change you have to hold a precarious balance between your physical and magical power.

The change takes three forms. Most commonly one will lose his human appearance and become a higher magical creature. That is how the first phoenixes, dragons and unicorns came into existence.

Or one will lose all physical from and become a well of magical energy.

And very rarely one will become a Keeper, the beginning of a new Line."

Her eyes shone with both, sadness and pride when she continued: "Nicos will be the beginning of a new Line; it is only a matter of time. His blood has already changed and it won't be long till he awakens as one of us, immortal, the physical form of magic itself."

_And he will hate it, because he will have to watch his loved ones die one after the other._

_

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**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **everything you recognize from the books belongs to JKR, the rest is mine

**Warnings: **adult themes?

Please ask my permission before listing or archiving this story. Thank you.

**Thanks to your reviews my muse decided to do overtime. So, this chapter exists thanks to you. **

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**Hope's Nest**

**Chapter 10**

When Nicodemus regained consciousness he wasn't surprised to be surrounded by children. It fit their previous pattern of behaviour. He couldn't fathom why, but every single child that had come to "Hope's Nest" so far, had formed a nearly obsessive attachment to him.

Even those children that had to be sent to the special facility in Canada, that he sponsored, where they remained under the care of Dr.Wood, one of the best mind healers in the world, calmed down as soon as he touched them.

He had discussed it with Severus and came to the conclusion that it had to do with his magic. There was not one child that bore the crest of "Hope's Nest" or Slytherin who had not been touched by his magic on at least one occasion.

No, he wasn't surprised that his bed was clustered with several bundles of joy. What did come as a surprise when he opened his eyes was the presence of one Draco Malfoy in a chair several feet from his bed.

* * *

Draco hoped he didn't look as nervous as he felt, when his silver gaze met blazing violet. He didn't know what had possessed him to wait for Nicodemus to wake up here. There was no reason for him to do so. It wasn't even that he had been asked to do so by Severus or Duchess Stormcrow.

It had been a reflex. He had wanted to stay in that warm, blazing presence. He had wanted to observe that mysterious man while he was unprotected and unmasked.

He had seen how wry amusement and puzzlement followed each other in those fascinating eyes, when their gaze fell on the sleeping young children.

"Good morning." He greeted the newly awakened.

"Good morning, Draco. I hope you are well?" Nicodemus replied, his voice still a little raspy from sleep.

Draco raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Why should I feel unwell?"

Nicodemus smiled a little, then said: "Well, you are residing in my infirmary. Usually one does so only when ill."

"Oh, no, I am quite well. I followed you, yesterday. I wanted to give you a helping hand, if you needed one. I'm afraid I frightened one of the children quite badly when he barrelled into me. He told me you needed help, so I called Severus, who, in turn, called Duchess Stormcrow.

I hope you are well again?"

Nicodemus was surprised to say the least. He didn't know what to make of this new Malfoy. It was hard to connect the boy from then to the mature, handsome man now. _But it would be hard to connect the Harry Potter from fifth year with Nicodemus Stormcrow from now as well. Perhaps it would be easier if I didn't like what I see._

"Yes, thank you. I take it you were present when Duchess Stormcrow healed me?" _What am I **doing**?_

"Yes. I apologize if you feel uncomfortable with that." Draco replied cautiously. He was mesmerized by the pattern of crimson sparks in those deep, violet orbs.

Nicodemus waved his hand dismissively. "No need to apologize, Draco. I'm sure last night raised a couple of questions in you and I wanted to let you know that I won't be offended by you asking them." It seemed his mouth had taken a mind of its own, because Nicodemus most certainly had not wanted to share his secrets with anyone. _Why am I doing this? I didn't even tell Charlie, even though we were together for a whole year, and now I give Draco Malfoy of all people permission to ask questions to his heart's content? A person I've known as a stranger for no more than a couple of hours?_

To say Draco was surprised by that offer was an understatement. His silver eyes conveyed his shock as clearly as his face. _Here is it. Here is the chance to unravel the enigma that is Nicodemus Stormcrow._

"Well, I don't know what to say. Thank you, I think would be as appropriate as inadequate. I have to admit to a certain curiosity regarding your person, Nicodemus. And to have your friendly permission to satisfy that curiosity is an opportunity I have no wish to resist.

Thanks to Duchess Stormcrow, and our dinner conversation, I know that you are of Old Blood. Then again, so are many of the older families. However, considering the events of last night, I am sure I don't know what that term really entails."

Nicodemus gaze never wavered from enchanting silver, when he explained: "There are quite a number of families that can pride themselves to have Old Blood flowing through their veins. It doesn't mean more than that they have the potential to **be **of Old Blood.

As long as that blood does not awaken, they are ordinary, if perhaps unusually powerful wizards and witches. If the Old Blood in them awakens, they become a part of the Old Line they descended from. Their bodies change to be better able to survive the amount of magic they henceforth bear in their souls.

The only limit for their power is their body. If they push that limit, their bodies change a second time. To prevent that change, magic itself provided every Line with a Keeper, someone who is able to stop the change and command the magic of every descendant of that Line.

That is what the duchess did for me last night. She prevented my change." _And I really don't want to hear what she's going to say about that. She told me I couldn't visit the soul plane again till I had at least eight hours of uninterrupted rest._

"Sadly I wasn't able to prevent your change entirely." They were interrupted by a melodious voice.

Duchess Stormcrow stood at the door, a contemplating look in her eyes as she watched the two young men across the room.

"Nicodemus, if you would send the children to their rooms, we have something to discuss." She ordered, her blue eyes blazing with authority.

* * *

After the children had left and Draco had been ordered to stay, the duchess sat down on a chair next to Nicodemus' bed. Her dress settled in a neat curtain around her, flowing down the chair like a waterfall. She had had centuries to practice her every move and it showed in the effortless grace of even the smallest of her movements.

Her youthful face stood in stark contrast to the seriousness in her eyes as she looked at her young charge.

"I was able to prevent your change, Nicos, that much is true. However, your blatant disregard of my earlier warnings has had consequences. Your blood has changed irreversibly. It is obvious that you are destined to be a Keeper, yourself. You will be the beginning of a new Line.

If you are cautious and don't use **any **of your soul's magic but only that of your surroundings, you will be able to delay the change for another decade at most. I know you hate the very thought of it, but you will have to face the facts.

You will become immortal. You will become a Keeper. You will have the responsibility to look after and rule over your Line.

The only thing left for you to choose is the moment of your change. Do you want to deny the inevitable even to yourself for as long as you can or will you take up the mantle of responsibility and rise to the challenge?

Are you brave enough to face your own greatness? Or will you run away?"

Silver and blue eyes looked expectantly at the agitated man, whose eyes seemed to drown in crimson fire.

The only sound in the room was Nicodemus harsh breathing as he fought against his panic. _I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry._

His fingers curled into fists, lightening crackling inside them. _Why me? Why is it always me?_

Draco watched fascinated and more than a little worried how Nicodemus fought against his temper. It tore at his heart to see the young man so troubled and yet, he couldn't deny how truly magnificent he was in his fit of temper. _I wonder what he looks like when he is in the throws of passion. That most be a sight to behold. _

_I was **not **just thinking that. The man is facing tragic news and all I can think about is how magnificent he looks? That's pathetic even for me. Wait, did she say **immortal**?_

"That's impossible. I don't even have a Line! There is no need for a Keeper if there is no Line!" The angry outburst was accompanied by distant thunder.

"That is where you are wrong, childe. Nicos," the duchess's voice was gentle and warm, fondness lining her every word. "Nicos, look around you. You live in a house with more than ten children, all of them carrying the name **you **created, wearing the crest **you **designed, priding themselves of calling **you **their Head of Family.

You have been the beginning of a new Line since the very first child you took in. Think about how many of them have the potential to awaken, to become one of our kin. And then try and tell me again that there was no need for a Keeper!

I know it wasn't your design to create a new Line when you took them in, but you have to face reality. You should have realized what you did when you created a crest and gave them a name. You should have realized the consequences of your actions when you started to hand out amulets with the crest of your adopted Line. You took them on as vassals and therefore have to extend your protection.

Think about it childe and let me know what you decide. If you want to continue to live in denial you will have to leave this country, otherwise you are bound to lose control and change.

I want you to rest for at least today. No work! Think about your choices and make a decision you will be able to live with.

I will take care of your people for today."

She stood up, pressed a kiss on Nicodemus' bowed head and left without so much as a look at the other conscious occupant.

* * *

**TBC**


End file.
